David Harum eBook

jest kind o’ choked an’ sputtered.
He was so mad he couldn’t say nothin’,
an’ on I drove, an’ when I got about forty
rod or so I looked back, an’ there was the deakin
a-comin’ along the road with as much of his shoulders
as he could git under his hat an’ leadin’
his new hoss. He, he, he, he! Oh, my stars
an’ garters! Say, Polly, it paid me fer
bein’ born into this vale o’ tears.
It did, I declare for’t!” Aunt Polly wiped
her eyes on her apron.

“But, Dave,” she said, “did the
deakin really say—­that word?”

“Wa’al,” he replied, “if ’twa’n’t
that it was the puttiest imitation on’t that
ever I heard.”

“David,” she continued, “don’t
you think it putty mean to badger the deakin so’t
he swore, an’ then laugh ‘bout it?
An’ I s’pose you’ve told the story
all over.”

“Mis’ Bixbee,” said David emphatically,
“if I’d paid good money to see a funny
show I’d be a blamed fool if I didn’t laugh,
wouldn’t I? That specticle of the deakin
cost me consid’able, but it was more’n
wuth it. But,” he added, “I guess,
the way the thing stands now, I ain’t so much
out on the hull.”

Mrs. Bixbee looked at him inquiringly.

“Of course, you know Dick Larrabee?” he
asked.

She nodded.

“Wa’al, three four days after the shower,
an’ the story ‘d got aroun’ some—­as
you say, the deakin is consid’able
of a talker—­I got holt of Dick—­I’ve
done him some favors an’ he natur’ly expects
more—­an’ I says to him: ‘Dick,’
I says, ’I hear ’t Deakin Perkins has got
a hoss that don’t jest suit him—­hain’t
got knee-action enough at times,’ I says, ‘an’
mebbe he’ll sell him reasonable.’
‘I’ve heerd somethin’ about it,’
says Dick, laughin’. ‘One of them
kind o’ hosses ’t you don’t like
to git ketched out in the rain with,’ he says.
‘Jes’ so,’ I says. ‘Now,’
I says, ’I’ve got a notion ‘t I’d
like to own that hoss at a price, an’ that mebbe
I c’d git him home even if it did rain.
Here’s a hunderd an’ ten,’ I says,
‘an’ I want you to see how fur it’ll
go to buyin’ him. If you git me the hoss
you needn’t bring none on’t back.
Want to try?’ I says. ‘All right,’
he says, an’ took the money. ‘But,’
he says, ’won’t the deakin suspicion that
it comes from you?’ ‘Wa’al,’
I says, ’my portrit ain’t on none o’
the bills, an’ I reckon you won’t
tell him so, out an’ out,’ an’ off
he went. Yistidy he come in, an’ I says,
‘Wa’al, done anythin’?’ ‘The
hoss is in your barn,’ he says. ’Good
fer you!’ I says. ‘Did you make anythin’?’
‘I’m satisfied,’ he says. ’I
made a ten-dollar note.’ An’ that’s
the net results on’t,” concluded David,
“that I’ve got the hoss, an’ he’s
cost me jest thirty-five dollars.”